


Let the choir bells ring

by mediaville



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bittersweet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2013-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-03 16:15:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediaville/pseuds/mediaville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"Looks like someone's made an honest woman out of Harry. He's wearing a diamond ring."</i>
</p><p>A lovely anon asked me to write woke-up-married fic, and then several other lovely anons asked me to write more miserable H/L from the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/44862">Misery Loves Company</a> series. This fic is a weird, g-rated Frankenstein monster that achieves neither of those things, but DOES include Harry wearing Louis's ring and them being kind of miserable. They're not together, but there are references to a previous relationship. Look, I tried.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the choir bells ring

"It's transformation time," Louis sings out as he pushes Zayn through the door to the prep suite in the hotel. Harry's already there, because of course he is. Anywhere that Lou is, Harry is. Louis frowns at how Harry and Lou are hunched together by the window, until Liam pushes gently at his back. "Where's Neil?"

"He's in the toilet," Lou says, then, "Harry! Hold still and let me—"

Louis marches over to the toilet and pounds his fist on the door. "Oi! Neil! It's time for your beauty routine!"

"No, just—stop. I can—just leave it," Harry says, sounding panicked. It's not like Louis is trying to pay attention. It just happens.

Niall opens the door and Louis covers his mouth and nose. "For fuck's sake, Niall," he admonishes through his fingers. "What did you eat?" Niall swats him on the shoulder and laughs. "Sarah," Louis calls out, even though she's not in the room. "Can we order some of that shit spray for Niall?"

"Poopourri," Liam clarifies. "You know I've wanted to give that a try. They say it really works."

"Harry," Lou says, louder this time. "We can't leave it like that. Just let me—"

"Not now," Harry hisses, shifting away from her.

Louis looks over at them while Liam and Zayn poke through the fruit platter that's laid out by their clothes. Harry is flushed in the face, hands tucked under his armpits like a toddler, dodging away from Lou every time she reaches for him. He's scowling, and yet—

"Let the woman cut your hair, Samson," Louis says, waving his hand vaguely in Harry's direction. He gets that unpleasant buzz in his belly that always happens when he stares too long at Harry in front of other people. "It won't kill you to lose an inch or two."

"That's what she said," Liam says around a slice of papaya.

"It's not his hair," Lou starts, but then Harry cuts her off.

"Yes, fine! Let's cut the hair," he says in a rush as he drags over the chair from the desk and sits down heavily in it, back to Lou. Louis looks over at Zayn and gets a raised eyebrow in return.

"What's going on, then?" Zayn asks, nodding at where Harry's sitting on his hands, waiting.

"M'having a hair cut," Harry says, kicking his feet out a little. 

Louis peers at him closely. His cheeks are flushed and he's fidgety. "Yes, but what's _actually_ going on?" Harry doesn't look up at him.

"In the latest adventures of Harry Styles," Lou begins, but Harry spins around in the chair, hand shooting up to cover her mouth. "God sakes, Harry," she complains, grabbing at his wrist. "It's not a secret, is it?"

It's Zayn that notices first. "What's this?" he says, grabbing Harry's hand. Louis shuffles closer, tries to get a look but Harry's squirming around too much for him to see anything other than Harry's fingers crushed in Zayn's hand.

"Oh no, what'd he do?" Louis says, hopping a bit to peek over Zayn's shoulder. "Is it a tattoo? Is it horrid?"

Zayn shakes his head and shrugs. "Nah, but it looks like someone's made an honest woman out of Harry. He's wearing a diamond ring."

Louis can't stop his mouth from falling open because that is, that is amazing. "Like Liberace?" 

"No, like a proper ladies' diamond engagement ring," Lou says, shoving at Harry's shoulder. "Which he tried on for whatever idiot reason Harry ever has for putting on women's rings, got it stuck on his finger, and now won't let me help him get it off so that he can return it to—" she pauses for a moment, frowning. "Whose ring is that anyway?"

Harry doesn't answer. He just chews on his lip and keeps trying to pull his hand back. He looks a little sweaty.

"Are you shagging a married one?" Niall asks, frowning. "That's messed up."

"I'm not," Harry says, terse. He's so bloody serious about it, Louis wants to laugh. He wants to say _Nobody gives a fuck who you're shagging_ , but he's afraid it'll sound petty and jealous. Or defensive.

"C'mon then," Louis says, pushing in front of Zayn. "Let's have a look."

"Maybe we can help?" Liam says, wandering over and setting a plate of grapes down on the windowsill beside Harry.

"Stop being a ninny," Lou admonishes, smacking Harry in the back of the head until he stops struggling. He pulls his hand out from Zayn's grip slowly.

"Jesus," Niall says, whistling. "That looks like it hurts, mate."

Louis wipes his fringe out of his eyes and peers over at Harry's reddened knuckles and—

Louis's breath catches, gut aching suddenly like he's been kicked. There's not much to it, tiny fleck of a diamond perched above a gold band inlaid with an unusual braided pattern that's definitely not recognizable to anyone but Louis. 

"I'm an idiot," Harry says weakly. Louis blinks down at him, stunned. 

Harry's looking right at him now, sure, _now_ , and Louis just stares at him for a long moment. Eventually he nods. "Yes, you are," he manages to get out.

"I think you're going to have to cut it off," Lou says, rubbing at the ring where it cuts into Harry's finger.

"I can't," Harry says, quickly, urgent. "It's got sentimental value." Louis can feel his own heart pounding in his chest.

"Why don't you run it through your greasy hair?" Niall jokes. "It's sure to slip off real easy."

"I've got an idea," Louis says, even though he has zero ideas about anything at the moment. "Come with me, we'll get you sorted." He hopes his voice sounds normal, casual.

"We've already tried Vaseline," Lou says as Harry shuffles out of the chair. 

"I'll have him back in ten," Louis promises and gestures for Harry to follow him. His room's only two doors down. They're quiet as they pad through the corridor in socked feet.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Harry says, "Do you really have something—?"

"Why are you," Louis starts, then thinks better of it. He's not ready to hear why. He just needs to understand how. "Where did you find that?"

"You left your wallet," Harry says, twisting the ring around his finger nervously. "It's new. Or like, new since I've last seen your wallet. I didn't recognize it."

Louis crosses his arms over his chest. "So you went through it."

Harry flings his arms out to both sides. "That's what you do when you find a strange wallet! I just wanted to see who it belonged to."

Louis nods slowly. "Yes but normally one would stop once they'd found the driver's license, not continue going through the pockets."

"The little thing, the little paper sleeve or whatever," Harry stammers, flustered. "It fell out when I opened it. Why are you carrying an engagement ring around in an envelope?"

Louis scoffs. "It was in my wallet," he argues, even as he realizes that Harry is trying to distract him from the real issue.

"Which you lost," Harry says, frowning. "Something like this, it's—it's _important_ , Lou."

"I didn't _lose_ it," Louis says, incredulous. "I left it in the prep room with my phone while I went to collect Liam and Zayn." He laughs, shaking his head. Why is _he_ the one explaining himself? "And thank you so much for pointing out the significance of an engagement ring, mister never-had-a-proper-relationship. Did you think about how _important_ it was before you put it on?" 

Harry looks away, hurt. Which, sure, that's what Louis had been going for, but. It never feels good when he does that. Harry just churns up all of these messy feelings inside of him. It's not his fault that Louis can't make them stop. "Harry," he says, a little more gently. "What are you doing?"

Harry tips his chin up, defiant. Sniffs and says, "What are _you_ doing? Are you getting married?"

Louis swallows thickly. "Of course I'm not," he says quickly. "I'm too young, for one, and," he stops, biting back any further explanation. "Anyway, I'm not."

Harry slumps down onto the bed, fiddles with the ring on his finger again. The skin on his finger is raw and split from pulling. "I just thought, like, if you were," Harry says, voice rough and quiet. "If you are thinking about that, or, like, planning that. It's a big step, and I don't know. I hope you'd tell me."

Louis blinks, speechless. Harry has a unique ability to render Louis stupid.

Harry looks up at him, then back down at his hands. He shrugs one shoulder. "I mean, I know you wouldn't tell me, like, first. But."

"It's not like I wouldn't," Louis says, voice gone raspy. He gestures lamely between himself and Harry, "But we don't usually talk about… that stuff." This is possibly the biggest understatement Louis has ever uttered.

Harry frowns. "Well, right, but this is big. This is—"

"This is not happening," Louis says firmly. "It's my gran's ring. Mum wanted me to have it. That's all."

Harry looks up at him, eyes wide. "Oh," he says. "Okay, well." An awkward silence fills the room. Louis shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "But like," Harry says eventually, and bloody hell, why doesn't he ever just leave things be? "If ever, in the future, y'know."

"Yeah, alright," Louis says, clearing his throat. "Point taken."

Harry looks back down at his hands, shoulders slumping again. "Sorry," he says, lifting his hand to indicate where the ring is still stuck round his finger. 

Louis looks up at the ceiling, has to look away from Harry, crumpled and sad on his bed in order to collect his thoughts. He actually snorts out loud when he thinks about how this is something that would only ever happen to Harry. "Did you try soap?"

Harry blinks up at him, shakes his head slowly.

"Let's give it a go," Louis says, tugging Harry up by his shirt and dragging him to the toilet. He runs the water until it gets slightly warm and then works on unwrapping the tiny bar of hand soap. _Bulgari_ , it says. He hisses through his teeth. "Sorry, babe," he says, not catching the endearment until it's already out there. "Fancy perfumed soap might sting a little where you're all cut up."

"Doesn't matter," Harry says, taking the soap and working it into a thick lather on his hands.

Louis watches him quietly. He's chewing his lip again, teeth pressing on ruddy, soft skin. It's impossible to look at Harry's mouth and not remember what it felt like to kiss him, but it's equally impossible to look away. He wants to rub at the crease between Harry's brows, let him know that it's all fine. Harry's upset, he can tell by the way he's tugging harshly at the band around his finger, roughing up the skin there further. "Hey, hey," Louis says softly, trailing his fingers down to soothe at Harry's finger. "Gently." Harry inhales shakily and slows down. He probably assumes Louis is worried about the ring. 

"It's really small," Louis says after a quiet moment. "But it's like, perfect quality. As far as diamonds go."

Harry stays quiet, tries working the ring up his knuckle. It slides a bit of the way up, but sticks again when he runs it under the water.

"Keep with the soap," Louis says, pulling Harry's hand out from under the faucet. He clears off the toiletries from the counter next to the sink and hauls himself up, drawing his knees up to his chest. "Forever seems like," he starts, but then pauses because he doesn't want to sound like an arsehole. "It's hard to imagine doing anything forever," he settles on.

There's a clinking noise and he looks up, sees Harry plucking the ring out of the sink and holding it out to him sheepishly. 

"Cheers," Louis says, smiling. He takes the ring and hops down from the counter as Harry dries his hands. "Now where to put it so that it will be safe from other blokes who want to try it on," he says, teasing as he zips it into the side pocket of his duffel.

"It is hard to imagine forever," Harry says after a beat. "But like, it's easier when you flip it around, y'know? Like, if you're doing something or with someone that makes you happy, it's hard to imagine stopping." He shoves his hands in his pockets and toes at the carpet and Louis is struck by how open and honest and _lovely_ Harry is. "I mean, sometimes it just does, and I get that, but like, I think it's easy to hope that it doesn't?"

"Harry," Louis says tentatively, stomach swooping uncomfortably. He knows he shouldn't push, but Harry's like an addiction, an itch that Louis can't help scratching even if he bleeds. "If you'd found that ring in Liam's wallet, or Niall's—"

Harry looks up at him, big eyes holding steady. He waits for Louis to finish asking, but Louis doesn't, thinks he probably already knows the answer. 

"Just because I haven't had a 'proper relationship'," Harry gestures with his fingers to denote the quotes, "doesn't mean I haven't felt that." He looks down again, hunching his shoulders. "About someone."

"I know," Louis says, barely more than a whisper.

"Not you," Harry says then, looking up from under his lashes and smiling widely. "Obviously."

Louis chokes on a laugh. "Liar," he says before he can think better of it. "I don't see you wearing anyone else's ring." Harry covers his face with his hands and groans. Louis can't help but laugh quietly. "We should head back."

Harry sighs and drops his hands, patting at his pockets to feel for his phone and wallet. "Got everything?" Louis asks. "Not leaving any other sensitive subjects behind, are you?"

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Just my dignity, I think."

"Ah, c'mon," Louis cajoles, tugging Harry into the corridor by his sleeve. "Never had much of that to begin with." He turns back and winks at Harry. "C'mon, I'll carry you over the threshold and everything. Do it all proper-like."

Harry barks out a loud laugh, and things feel like they've shifted back to normal, whatever that is. "As if you even could, titch," Harry says, patting Louis on the head gently. 

Louis pinches his nipple and gives it a good twist before Harry takes off running.


End file.
